"Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. “I can’t believe it. Much too young for you. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes. The stench is everywhere.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4xNi4zIC0gMDMtMTAtMjAyNCAxNjozMzoyNCAtIDEzNjU5NTgzNDE=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 02-10-2024 02:24:04